


Nightmare

by KimeeChi



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimeeChi/pseuds/KimeeChi
Summary: Y'all ever think about how traumatic it might be to see a friend/loved one die traumatically? Regardless of whether or not resurrection was possible?I do.Anyway, Merry Christmas.





	Nightmare

The scene plays itself again and again inside his mind. Sometimes, it’s the same scene. The same moment, even, replayed over and over. Then, as if his brain had gotten bored with that torment, it would switch over to replay the scene with different variables instead. It does it so many times, he can hardly remember which one was the true memory, and which ones were fabrications of paranoia.

There’s one, though, that Yosuke is _pretty_ sure is the true memory. That one usually plays out like this:   
He, Souji, Chie, Teddie, and Yukiko are all there. He knows everyone had been there, it wouldn’t make sense if they weren’t. No man left behind, that was their policy. _Everyone was there._ He knows that, but it doesn’t always help.   
They’re all facing a big, big enemy. He remembers craning his neck up to look at it, with his headphones blasting high-tempo music in his ears like a boss-battle scene in a video game. He can’t remember if it was someone’s or just.. A sort of mini-boss. He liked calling them mini-bosses.   
There had been _wind._ He remembers the wind, how each attack would whip around him like a tornado, and how he’d have to duck close to the ground to even stay upright. Sometimes the attacks were further from him, and sometimes it felt like the tornado would swallow him right up, just like that. It never did, though. He took wind attacks pretty well. They still hurt, sure, but he could keep going.   
Souji couldn’t do that. His balance was terrible or.. _Something._ Something made them awful for him to take; that’s the part of the memory that makes him feel cold inside. It’s the part that gets fuzzy, the part that repeats.

He’d wanted to go and push him out of the way, so that he wouldn’t get hurt. He’d even gone to do it, but he hadn’t made it there in time. He’ll _always_ remember that he didn’t make it there in time, it ate at him like a disease. He hadn’t made it. What happened to Souji had happened _because_ he hadn’t made it. That was the worst part.   
Souji flew across the room like a ragdoll. It had been so strong, he’d been picked up and thrown into the wall like he weighed nothing. Yosuke remembers seeing Souji lose his grip on his sword, and seeing him yell. Yosuke isn’t sure, even now, if the yell had been the result of surprise or fear. It could have been both, for all he knew. He hadn’t been able to hear it, the music in his headphones had been too loud.   
He hit the wall back first, his head cracked against it moments after. As Souji hit the ground, he stopped moving. He didn’t move after his body had come to rest, and Yosuke had felt his stomach lurch with panic. Yukiko had used a healing spell on him, but he didn’t get up even after that. Everyone got up after that, even if they were unconscious. That meant he _wasn’t_ unconscious, it was something far, _far_ worse.   
He was at Souji’s side in an instant. Shaking him, begging again and again for him to wake up. He still couldn’t hear, not himself, not the others. He wasn’t sure what had happened to the shadow. Perhaps the others had killed it while he was not paying attention. It didn’t matter.   
He remembers the song that had been playing, and found that he would no longer be able to listen to it without that memory burrowing its way, unwanted, into his mind. He had been so sure he was about to lose him, that he’d never get to see or talk to Souji again, that he’d just be another victim.   
He hadn’t, though. Yukiko had tried something new, a spell she had learned a few weeks back. She hadn’t known what it would do, but desperation makes people try anything. It had worked. Yosuke knocked his headphones back so he could actually hear, and the spell had worked. Souji woke up, gasping for breath and looking panicked and confused. He’d held onto Yosuke so tightly that Yosuke was sure there were going to be bruises on his arms, but he didn’t care. Souji was alive again, he was alive, and Yosuke held him until he calmed down.

All of that repeated again and again in his head. One of his mind’s favorite “what if” scenarios to repeat was the one where Yukiko hadn’t been there, or where she hadn’t known the spell. That particular one plagues him now, as he lay on a pile of blankets and pillows in Souji’s bedroom. He had insisted that Souji not go home alone after what had happened, and Souji hadn’t argued with him. Yosuke wasn’t sure whether he was grateful or worried that he hadn’t argued. He still isn’t sure.

His eyes snap open, and he is staring at the ceiling of the darkened room. Classical music plays gently in the background, so quiet he can barely hear it. His breathing is ragged, and it shakes as he attempts to calm it.

_**It’s just a nightmare,**_ he tries to tell himself. _**It didn’t really happen like that.**_   
_But what if it did?_

Yosuke sits up. His heart races painfully in his chest, as if he’d just run a marathon. He’ll just check, to make sure Souji was actually there, laying in the bed just across the room. He doesn’t think Souji won’t be there, but he’s pretty sure it’ll at least help get rid of the thoughts in his head.   
He looks, and sure enough, there he is. He can see the lump of blankets on the bed, and the tuft of grey hair poking out the top. When he stands, he can see Souji’s phone plugged in on the nightstand, playing music.

_**He’s right there, see?**_ He thinks, _**everything is fine. He’s right there.**_   
_What if he isn’t breathing?_  

No, that’s impossible. He died in the TV World, not in the real world. He would have no reason to be dead in his bed, not one. However, the thought doesn’t go away. He stares for a while, to make sure. Watching the subtle movement of the blankets. He’s definitely, _definitely_ breathing. He’s alive, he’s just sleeping, that’s why he’s not moving. Souji should be allowed to sleep, too. He’s had such a rough day, he needs to sleep. Yosuke shouldn’t bother him by waking him up.

_You know, if you watch anything long enough, it’ll look like it’s moving. What if your mind is just playing tricks on you? How can you be sure?_   
_**Please, stop.**_   
It doesn’t. No matter how many times he begs the thoughts to go away, they never do. They never have.

Before he can stop himself, he finds himself standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at the sleeping man. He doesn’t want to wake him up, he doesn’t want to bother him, but he’s also desperate for the thoughts to stop, for them to leave him alone. Souji has the ability to make them do that, Yosuke knows that he does. Just being _around_ him made usually them stop, made them quiet.

_He sleeps really deeply. Are you prepared for the panic you’ll have when he doesn’t immediately move?_

Yosuke hesitates. He feels himself beginning to cry. His throat burns, his vision blurs. He blinks hard to clear it, and decides that he has to do it. They won’t stop if he doesn’t, and he can’t sit through the whole night like this. He can’t.   
He puts his hands on Souji’s shoulders, and he shakes him.

“Souji?” His voice cracks. The moment Yosuke says his name, Souji wakes up. Yosuke feels relief rush through him, but the anxiety doesn’t leave him like he’d hoped it would.

“Yosuke,” Souji says, propping himself up. His voice is accented with sleep, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Yosuke hesitates again. They make eye contact, and Yosuke watches as Souji’s expression turned from sleepy to concerned. Souji moves the blanket, and sits up more. Yosuke turns his head away.

“I had a nightmare.” He finally says, his voice small, like a child’s. The tears flow freely down his face now. He repeats; “I had a nightmare. You.. You were- I couldn’t-”

“Hey,” Souji interrupts him, gently placing his hands on either side of Yosuke’s face, guiding his eyes back. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay, it was just a dream. Whatever happened, it wasn’t real.”

“It _felt_ real.”

“They always do.” Souji releases his face, moving instead to gently guide Yosuke onto the bed next to him. Yosuke does not resist. Instead, moving quickly to wrap his arms tightly around his friend, holding him as if something threatened to take him away. His head is on Souji’s chest, he can hear his heartbeat, sure and strong. He tightly shuts his eyes, and he lets himself cry.   
Souji holds him as his body shakes. Yosuke can hear him speaking, but doesn’t care for the words. Instead, taking solace in that he is able to hear Souji’s voice at all. Taking solace in that Souji is _here_ , that he’s _okay_ , he’s _alive_. He repeats those things to himself, and even hears Souji quietly telling him: “I’m here, it’s alright.”

Yosuke doesn’t want to move after he stops crying. He wants to stay there, to stay that close to Souji, fearful that if he were no longer able to hear Souji’s heart beating, the thoughts would come back to torment him. So, he doesn’t move.   
Mercifully, Souji does not ask him to. He only moves to cover the both of them with the blanket once more, before settling down again. He lets Yosuke stay, and Yosuke could not be more thankful for it.

Before the sun comes up, both of them were asleep again, and much more peacefully this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't feel like rewriting this 8 times (my typical form of editing), so it was only edited a little bit.   
> Please try and forgive verb-tense errors. My brain can't seem to decide which one it wants sometimes; I hope it wasn't too distracting.
> 
> I want to write more things like this.


End file.
